


Motel Hoppers

by Olivores (CardsharpDicer)



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), More Wine, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, haha get it burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-07-13 09:58:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16015562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CardsharpDicer/pseuds/Olivores
Summary: After finally escaping Murkoff, Waylon looks to start his life where he left off. Unfortunetly, Murkoff isn’t going to let him escape so easy, it’s their sworn mission to destroy everything Waylon loves and owns. Waylon has no where to hide or run after the kidnapping of his family, now he turns to Miles and The Walrider for protection. Waylon needs time to heal his aching heart but Miles’ cries for something more. He and Miles must travel across the country to escape the hands of Murkoff and find a better life together.





	1. Firewood Motel

It had been at least a week or more since Waylon had escaped Murkoff. It was full of sleepless nights and paranoid pacing. Lisa was the only thing that could calm him down. Being able to hold her in his arms or getting to cuddle up to her on the couch while they watched TV. Lisa was Waylon’s sanity and morality. Without her he was nothing. While he would never be comfortable again, he could find something comforting in his family. Those weeks of finally winding down had all led up to this night. The night that breaks the silence. A blanket of stars cast over the world. One last night before he had to let Lisa go. Stirring in the night Waylon woke up. The whole world felt off its axis. Too close to the sun. Waylon pawed at Lisa trying to get her to wake up with no luck. Sliding off the bed he walked over to the window, it hid a bright light behind its curtains, shining differently than the sun or moon. He opened up the blinds and the light beamed in. Lisa groaned and turned away from the window. Lisa was so cute when she was sleepy. He didn’t want to annoy her. That’s the last thing he wanted. He looked outside. Waylon heard the noise of boots stepping onto the ground. He screamed Lisa’s name feeling a sense of potential danger. She shot up with a groan.

“What?!” She yelled groggily. She was clearly pissed. It was about 4 in the morning. Just as she spoke, her and Waylon heard something pound against the wall.

“Aw, hell no!” Lisa yelled as she dashed to go check downstairs. Waylon stood there unable to move. He was in shock. Memories of Murkoff flashing before his eyes, his heart pounding. He was snapped out of his daze when he heard the sound of Lisa cussing out something. Waylon ran down stairs, almost falling to try and get to Lisa. He cried out to her. He got no response. He immediately began to panic. Once he got down stairs he faced the horror of his shattered kitchen, the door had been smashed down. Lisa was gone. His eyes swelled up with tears. Upstairs he heard the windows shatter. He didn’t think twice, he just ran upstairs. The sharp noises sent adrenaline into his veins. He dashed.  _ No, no, no, please, I won’t lose them again! _ Was all Waylon could think of. He busted down the door to his kids room. They screamed for help in pitches that he had never wanted to hear. He grabbed onto both of his kids as he strained to keep them close. His kids were being torn away and he wasn’t strong enough to hold them close. His own flesh and blood, his own wife, gone. These men who were dressed in pure black, had their filthy hands wrapped around his kids. He tried to cry out to them but was responded with a kick to the face from one of the men in boots. When he tried to struggle as a last hope to get them back, he was kicked back down.

“You just don’t know when to quit, do you, Mr. Park.” A voice spoke almost sweetly. It was very familiar to Waylon. In his dazed state he couldn’t make any connections, all he knew is that it sent shivers down his spine.

“I could kill you, but I want to see you burn. I want you to suffer.” He was kicked in the head a few more times before Waylon passed out.

 

It was supposed to be comforting. It was supposed to be something to cherish, warmth. Safety. A cozy blanket. To cover something was suppose to be an act of protection and love. Waylon was enveloped by the warmth. The comforting feeling of warmth. The burning feeling of warmth. The scorching feeling of warmth. Waylon woke up surrounded by fire. Waylon screamed for his family to no response. This was really happening. This was all real. Waylon’s glasses were smashed but he still tried to navigate.

Waylon knew this would happen. He fucking knew it. But it still wasn’t enough to deter him from running away. He ran to his and Lisa’s room. He must’ve not been out long because his room was barely on fire. He quickly grabbed a few things before the fire spread any more and stuffed it all into a bag.  _ Lisa said I was being paranoid, well look at us now! Oh god, Lisa, is she okay? This is all my fault. This is all my fault. This is all my fault.  _ Waylon kept repeating degrading things to himself as he teared up. He grabbed a spare pair of glasses and headed to the door in a dash. the walls crashed down shaking the floor beneath him. He took quick breaths as scorched debris infested his lungs. The doorway to downstairs was completely blocked by fire. There’s no way he could get through the flames. He turned to the window. Fire was blocking it but he  _ could  _ run through it. It was the only way out. He backed up as far as he could, taking one last smoky breath, and sprinting towards the window. Putting all his weight and strength into it, the window shattered. He plummeted to the ground, landing in the grass, and rolling onto the sidewalk. The pain was unlike anything he had ever experienced. Emotional and physical. The sounds of his family’s screams, the beeping of fire alarms, the tightness in his lungs, the glass in his skin, the impact of the ground, the burns on his skin, it was pure agony. He wanted to die right there. Waylon just wanted to cry until he had nothing left to cry about. Something kept him going. There had to be something because he rose up on his feet to stare at his house. The heat burned his eyes, but he couldn’t look away. 

 

_ This was all my fault. _

 

__ _ Where do I go? I can’t stay here. If I did…they’d come back. Fucking hell. Lisa, do you want me dead? You should. I should go back. I should stay there and burn. If I die maybe you’ll live.  _ Waylon thought. He gripped onto his things, he couldn’t think straight. Tears obstructed his already blurry vision. It was all clear to him suddenly. Murkoff was back for revenge. His life was fucked. Nothing would be the same. He dropped to his knees and screamed into his hands. He sobbed as loud as he wanted, he didn’t care anymore. His life was over. What could possibly get worse. He wiped some dried blood that was lingering under his nose and mouth; it tore open barely healing scabs. He continued to cry as he slumped over to his car. It hadn’t been damaged, not yet anyway. He started it up as quickly as he could. When he pulled out he didn’t actually know where he was going exactly. Once he was on the blurry, blurry road, he knew that he would have to hide somewhere where he would be able to go self-consciously. All the places he was thinking of were convenience stores. He could go to his parents place? No, they’d hate seeing him like this. Plus, the last thing Waylon wanted was more dead or kidnapped family members. There was always…

There was no time to think. If he was going to do this he had to turn now. He speeded towards an old friends house. This was the best option, if his friend wasn’t dead already, and he’d be able to relate to Waylon too. Waylon had to see Miles Upshur.   
  
Waylon parked on the side of the road. He sprinted towards Miles house, bumping into the front door mistakenly. He banged on it screaming Miles’ name. He didn’t think about how the neighbors might not like hearing screaming at 4 AM. Waylon banged on the door rang the doorbell like his life depended it, well, it kind of did. A groggy Miles opened up the door.   
“Fuck off, crackhead!” Miles yelled.   
“You’re alive!” Waylon screamed with joy. He hugged Miles, pushing himself into Miles house.   
“Huh? What are you—? W…Waylon Park?” Miles muttered. He stared down at Waylon. His face was completely wrecked.  _ I'm trapped in my own body  _ He thought. Thousands of words escaped his mind but they were all conveyed with the same word, one word that choked him. 

"Help" Waylon begged. His voice was hoarse and quiet. It hurt to talk. Miles was struck with pity the moment his brain processed the situation. He quickly shut the door and pushed him deeper into his house.

“I can’t see. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…” Waylon weeped as Miles pushed him around and into the dining room. 

“Please don’t cry! It’s alright! What’s wrong? Tell me what's up! What happened to your face? You’re glasses? God, you’re a mess! Can I do anything for you?!” Miles sputtered sitting Waylon in a dining chair. He was full of compassion. In that moment, he wanted to do anything to help Waylon.

 

After a few minutes of explaining Miles was caught up with the current situation. Miles couldn’t help but sympathize with Waylon. He hated Murkoff just as much as Waylon.

“Here, I’ll go get your stuff from the car, you stay here. Relax. When I get back I’ll make you some tea.” Miles said leaving the room. Waylon quietly listened to the sound of the door shutting before collapsing onto the table. He let out a loud groan. His entire body ached. He couldn’t wait to pass out but he doubted he’d even be able to. He wanted to start all over. He wanted to vanish off the face of the earth. Hell, he wanted to die. Every moment that passed made Waylon wish he was just engulfed by flames. He felt like he was bothering Miles by being here. The door cracked back open. He could hear Miles footsteps getting closer. He shot up and looked around tryin to see which blob was Miles. Miles snuck up, tapping him on the shoulder. Waylon gasp turning his head towards Miles.

“Did you get it, Mr. Upshur? I have a spare pair of glasses in there.” 

“Ummm, yup. Hold on.”, Miles said, plopping the duffle bag on the table. It was full of clothes, a laptop, a phone, and… “Glasses! Got ‘em!” Miles did a sloppy job of putting them on Waylon, but it was the thought that counts. Waylon adjusted them, happy to see Miles face clearly. They both smiled at each other warmly. 

“Okay, teaboos, it’s tea time.” Miles said walking into the kitchen. 

“Thank you, Mr. Upshur.”

“You know, you can just call me Miles.” Miles called from the kitchen. 

“It…doesn’t feel right. It feels too… I don’t deserve it.”

“Okie dokie, Mr.  _ Park _ .” Miles antagonized. 

“We’re not safe anymore. Murkoff won’t stop until we are both dead. We will be tortured till we are forgotten or absolutely obliterated.” Waylon stated simply.

“What are you gonna do? Or…We. What are  _ we  _ gonna do?” Miles asked waiting by the tea kettle.

“We can’t stay in one place, they are sure to find us. You’ll be a prize for Murkoff an experimental masterpiece, if you don’t think of something, you’ll become the next Billy. We just made them look bad. There’s no guarantee we did enough to stop them.” Miles didn’t respond he just watched the water boil. 

“We need to do something tonight.”

 

Miles served Waylon his tea. Waylon thanked him, taking a sip. It soothed his nerves. He closed his eyes in deep thought. Miles sat there quietly watching. It hit Waylon. He knew what they were going to do.

“Miles Upshur!” Waylon yelled standing up from his seat. He adjusted his glasses, staring at miles intently. Miles stood up with him. “Run away with me.”

“What? And just leave everything behind? Where do we go?”

“We don’t go anywhere specific, we just escape this hell hole and sore along the rode. Just you and me. We won’t need anything else. Just each other. If we stay here, Murkoff will kill me and torture you into insanity.” Waylon explained. Miles collapsed in his chair with a laugh. 

“Oh my god. We really fucked up didn’t we? This can’t be our only option. Well no! You can stay here with me and the Walrider, and I’ll keep you safe and—-” Miles suggested but was quickly shut down by Waylon’s overpowering voice.

“Listen to me! They will find a way to destroy everything you own and love! But consider this, what is there left to destroy if there is nothing in the first place, Mr. Upshur? Run away with me. We won't need anything but each other. In this current state I can only capture images of the future with you in them." It was heartfelt and desperate. The way it was worded sounded almost romantic but the way he spoke made it apparent it was his last cry for help before he lost all hope. The sudden display of affection hit Miles hard. He couldn’t say no, he’d feel terrible.

“So…This really is our only option.” Miles mumbled. 

“It’ll be alright! I know I can’t lose you, that’s why I cherish you. You are full of incredible unlimited power! Nothing could ever hurt you. If we start our lives all over and consign everything else to oblivion we could be…so much happier.” Waylon said. He was smiling but tears were overflowing from his eyes. Miles got up from his seat and rushed over to Waylon. He grabbed Waylon’s hands, staring him face to face. He was not ready to see Waylon cry again. He was too empathetic and maybe it was just the desperation in the air but Miles had to agree with Waylon. He wanted to stay and protect Waylon.

“Alright. I’m in. I’ll go get the Walrider and we’ll get going.” Miles said with a nod. They both didn’t know where they were suppose to go but they both knew they were going to go far away from this place as possible. Waylon wiped away his tears. He clung onto Miles sobbing into his chest. Miles was hesitant, but he hugged Waylon back. It hurt him so much to see Waylon like this. He wasn’t quite sure what to do 

“You must be so tired. C’mon big guy. Get up. You can sleep on my couch for a while. I’m gonna go get packed.” Miles spoke softly, pulling Waylon to his feet. Waylon forgot his whole body hurt for a second. Everything ached. Him and Miles walked over to the couch, Waylon using his friend as support. Waylon flopped onto the couch. Miles left to his bedroom once he figured Waylon was fine on his own. Waylon’s arm hurt so bad. He took a look at it with clear eyes for the first time. There was still glass in his arm, luckily it was big enough to pull out. He grunted and yelled as he pulled out the glass. It didn’t help that he also had 3rd degree burns on his arm. He hope they would heal cleanly. Miles peeked his head into the living room doorway to check on Waylon. Waylon insisted he was fine but Miles rushed off to get a first aid kit. Miles came back with a worried expression and bandages. He wrapped Waylon’s arm up nice, scolding Waylon for not asking for help. Waylon turned away, too embarrassed to look at Miles. Please with his work, Miles walked off, rambling about something. Some story about how he burned his back from sleeping in the sun for 7 hours. It was a static. A comforting kind. One that wasn't filled with panic. It was simply casual rambling. Safe and predictable. It easily lulled Waylon to sleep. He was as content as he could possibly be in this situation. 


	2. Highway Motel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> waylon dissociates and miles travels on down to Monticello, Utah!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FUN STORY  
> this has been finished for a whike but no body proof read the chapter for me so i was way too anxious to post it. but i remembered this chapter existed!!! and now its here!!  
> anywayyy i wasnt so keen on posting this but i did. i had to read it like over and over until i fonally was like “okay this isnt that bad maybe im over react”  
> i putting so much more planning into the next chapter, dead ass

Miles loaded his stuff into his car. He only had one suitcase but his car still wasn’t that big.

“Sorry again for stealing your car.” Waylon said looking in through the open door of the passenger side of the car. He pushed his duffle bag in the back and hopped in the front seat of the car. He pulled out his phone and laptop from the back, holding them close.

“It’s fine...I guess.” Miles mumbled sarcastically. He gave the suitcase one more shove before it finally fit in the back. He slammed the door and hopped in the driver seat

“Okay, where do we go first?”

“I...dunno. We don’t have to go anywhere specific really. That’s too predictable. Let’s just...drive and see where the road takes us”

“Fun! I’ve always wanted to do that as a kid!” Miles reminisced. He started up the car and headed out on the road. Waylon ignored the world around him as he typed away on his laptop. Miles didn’t like the awkward silence but Waylon didn’t mind it at all. Waylon wanted to take this whole situation very seriously. He wanted to mope around for the rest of his life. Maybe he didn’t want to do that but he certainly thought that was how he was going to spend the rest of his days. Miles on the other hand, wanted to find the positive in the situation. Then again, finding any kind of positive would come off as offensive, wouldn’t it? He knew that he should just leave Waylon alone. He wanted to just let Waylon rot there, but he wanted to make him feel better and cheer him up.

“Do you...want to go somewhere before we leave Colorado?”

“Actually,” Waylon thought for a bit, tilting his laptop down to hide the screen.

“Can we stop at an Aldi and stock up on food? I’m really hungry.” To be honest, Waylon wasn’t actually that hungry, he just wanted to stress eat. Miles agreed and drove off towards the convenience store.

 

When Miles and Waylon finally arrived, Waylon immediately hopped out of the car and speed walked to the sliding doors. Miles chased after him. Something overcame Waylon. Mostly anger and sorrow. He grabbed a cart, storming towards the shelves. He dragged his hands along the shelf, knocking all the chips into the cart. He stormed around the store grabbing every bag of chips he could spot. He thought by the time he binged enough to become obese, he was sure that he would have forgotten his family, Murkoff, everything. His eyes strayed towards the wine section of the store. What a brilliant way to drown his sorrows! He didn’t think that Aldi would have had a wine section. He apologized for doubting Aldi and rushed inside. Miles groaned as he chased after him. Miles attempted to calm Waylon down and control him but it was like Waylon was all alone in his head. There was no one else in the store but him. That wasn’t entirely true. In the moment, others looked like obstacles rather than people. They were but hollow shells that were meant to complete an action that he would prompt them. He browsed the labels, looking for familiar words and brands. Pinot Noir? The wine game at Aldi is stronger than he thought. Speeding past Miles he headed towards the cash register. Miles grabbed his shoulder. Waylon stared right past him like he wasn’t even there. Miles felt scared for his friend. What the hell was wrong with him? Waylon pulled out his wallet taking about $300 dollars out. Miles’ eyes widened.

“Who just has that much cash on them? Also, dude, that’s way too much money, this is Aldi not the Gucci store. Hello hello! Earth to Waylon!” There was no response from Waylon. He just stared down at Miles. Miles wasn’t that much smaller than Waylon but the sharp gaze Waylon made made him feel 3 feet tall. Waylon dragged his cart up to the cash register, slapping the 300 dollars down.

“Keep the change.” He didn’t even look at the lady at the cash register. He just walked by. Waylon said quietly before stomping out with his cart. Miles stood in shock, trying to figure out what just happened. Miles apologized to the lady working at the cashier as she bewilderedly counted each $20 bill. She just shrugged unsure how to react to the whole situation, and to be honest, neither did Miles. Miles found Waylon chugging a bottle of wine, hand deep in a bag of chips. He was slouched against the window on the passenger side. Waylon didn’t acknowledge Miles at all.

“Waylon! What the hell was that?” Miles yelled from outside the car. Waylon didn’t respond. He was still coming down from his high. Miles got in the car, slamming the door shut. He sat there, staring at the wheel in his grip. It was uncomfortably quiet.

“I’m gonna keep it real with you, I have no idea where I am right now. I can’t really describe it.”, Waylon said taking another swig of wine. “I think my brain is dissipating to cope with my pain. I know what I just did, but…it felt like a dream. It happened, but it wasn’t there.” he muttered, attempting to describe it anyway. His scratchy, nasally voice was monotone. Miles didn’t want to yell at Waylon while he was so vulnerable. He tried not to empathize with Waylon, he wanted to scold him but…he felt so bad for him.

“Yeah, that’s valid, I guess.” Miles agreed getting back in the driver seat. Miles really didn’t want to question what just happened. Whatever made Waylon feel better, he supposed. Miles guessed it was just is final “fuck you” to Colorado. He seriously hoped this wasn’t going to be a recurring thing.

“Let’s get out of here. Let’s go to Utah and like…steal a frog.” Waylon snorted. His low alcohol tolerance was a curse and a blessing. On one hand, his problems would so easily melt away, on the other hand, light social drinking with work friends would leave him drunk as all hell.

“Hell yeah! Frog time!” Miles said, shifting the car into gear. Waylon felt so much happier when he was buzzed. He was a much more fun person when he was drunk. He was bubbly, cracking jokes, and kept a friendly banter with Miles. It didn’t take long for Waylon to finish the whole wine bottle. He was absolutely trashed. Miles just thought this was funny. Waylon kept bantering with Miles, be it a bit slurred and unintelligible. Waylon broke into a fit of laughter. He laughed and laughed until tears were pouring out of his eyes. Crying turned into balling. It wasn’t about his family though, it was about Miles. He just kept going on about how he felt bad for ruining Miles life. Miles tried to comfort him more than once but Waylon just would scream over him. Miles reassured him that he was doing the right thing ‘til the tears stopped spilling out. Waylon sighed and put his head on Miles shoulder. Miles didn’t flinch. It felt natural, plus, Waylon was drunk, he didn’t know any better.

“I disgraced you for the last time.” Waylon whined, face redder than a tomato from all the alcohol and crying.

“Oh, shut up, you big baby. I need you with me. We gotta stick together.” Miles said sternly but affectionately. Waylon groaned, getting as cozy as he could.

“I sleep. Goodnight, Mr. Upshur. I’m sorry, again, by the way.” Waylon muttered.

“If you apologize one more time, I will twist your nipples off.” Miles threatened.

“Not if my nipples fall off before…you get there…” Waylon mumbled as he slowly drifted off.

 

Waylon’s eyes fluttered open. His head full of static. As soon as he realized he was laying on Miles shoulder, he shot up and dusted himself off.

“Miles! I am terribly sorry! I…where are we?” Waylon squirmed frantically as he tried to get himself back together.

“Um…I think…Utah. Also don’t worry about it. You were drunk and tired.” Miles said.

“D…did I drink straight from the bottle?” Waylon asked in horror. “Um…yeah…?”

“Oh my god! Mr. Upshur, I assure you! I am not…! I should have used a glass I…! I must a assure I’m a much more sophisticated alcoholic!” Waylon tried to explain himself. He felt really stupid like he had just disgraced himself.

“Is that really what you’re worried about?” Miles laughed. “I’m sorry. I just drink to forget but I always remember…I um…remember…what was I trying to forget?” Waylon asked

“You’re family, you robbed a store, you know just stuff we all do. No biggie.” Miles explained. Waylon groaned and curled up in a ball. Oh yeah. That.

“Um…I know your mourning but, I am so tired. I have been driving for 5 hours. Can we please like, stop for a second.” Miles said with a groggy voice.

“Huh…? Oh yeah…sorry, I’ll book us a room.” He said with a sniffle. It didn’t take him long to find somewhere nearby. Waylon directed Miles towards the motel. Once they arrived, Waylon cringed a bit. He didn’t exactly like the idea of sitting let alone sleeping in a crappy motel. Although, it wasn’t like him and Miles could get a fancy hotel. A hotel was expensive. While Waylon had a lot of money, he didn’t exactly have a flow of income anymore. Just a stack of cash on him. He seriously didn’t want to adjust to the less-than-good lifestyle. He even suggested that Miles go in and he could sleep in the car. Miles pulled him out of the car by the arm. Waylon stumbled out laptop resting between his side and his arm. Miles pulled out both of their bags and headed inside. Waylon groaned, slipping his phone in his pocket, carrying as many snacks as he could in his arms. He walked in to see Miles arguing with the person at the front desk. Waylon asked if his room was ready.

“I tried both of our names and she said they don’t exist!”

“What’s the name, sir?”

“Um…Seemor Azzes” Waylon said shyly. The front desk gave them their key. Waylon rushed off to their room number. Miles opened the door for Waylon. Waylon didn’t look at Miles as he rushed past him. Miles quietly shut the door. Miles broke out into laughter. Waylon giggled along with him.

“Seemor Azzes?” Miles cackled

“It’s my new alter ego. Waylon is dead.” Waylon joked.

“Okay, Mr. Azzes.” Miles snickered. Waylon looked around and cringed. The place looked like terrible. He spun around, taking everything in. He let out a noise of disgust.

“This place is absolutely horrendous.” He scoffed.

“It’s not that bad. It’s not like we can get a fancy hotel. You got the cheapest room, what did you expect? It’s not like we’re living here. Plus, at least we don’t have to share a bed.”

“I have very high standards, Mr. Upshur!” He said, sounding almost offended.

“Well, I guess you can’t have those anymore.” Miles said collapsing onto the bed, not bothering to get under the covers. Waylon sighed slipping under the beds covers. He wrapped himself up in the blankets, passing out almost too easily. 


	3. Dead End Motel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wow miles. its surprising how much more attractive you look when everyone else i know and love is dead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE FORMATING IS FUCKED AND I DONT KNOW WHAT HAPPEN

Miles poked at Waylon trying to wake him up. Waylon groaned and hid deeper under the sheets. Miles tried to pull him up but Waylon wouldn’t budge.

“We gotta go! What happened to running away, huh?” Miles mocked him, trying to provoke him so he got up.

“I’ll get up in a minute…It’s been a long day…” Waylon mumbled

“You just got up! You have been sleeping for 13 hours!” Miles scolded. Waylon didn’t respond. Miles thought for a while. He huffed.

“Oh my god! Is that a bed bug?!” He said dramatically. There was no bug, but it made Waylon jump out of bed. He screamed, throwing off the sheets. He twirled about trying to look himself up and down. Nothing there.

“Got ‘em.” Miles said smugly. He flicked Waylon’s nose playfully.

“I swear to god, I will STRANGLE you, Upshur!” Waylon stormed up to him, snatching him closer by the collar.

“Mhmm~, let’s bounce.” He hummed grabbing Waylon by the wrist. Waylon didn’t fight it, he just followed lead, grabbing his stuff on the way out.

  
They stood on either sides of the car doors.  
“Hey, you must be really tired, let me drive.” Waylon offered. He felt bad for yesterday. Maybe he could make it up to Miles

“You’re going to steal my car again!” Miles joked in a serious voice.

“With you inside the car?! Right next to me?? How would I even steal it?! Do you expect me to take it home with me!?” He retorted, his pitch raising and cracking. Miles snickered, pushing Waylon out of the way and got in the car. Waylon shot an offended look at Miles. He reluctantly hopped in the front seat.

“Fine! I was gonna probably text and drive anyway!” He yelled from outside the car. There was an tense silence about the air. Waylon must’ve not understood the joke.

“I was joking, loser.” Miles snickered. He felt a bit awkward but he didn’t want to show it. Waylon forced an awkward laughed with an “oh, sorry”. Waylon bent down, opening a bag of chips that he had left in the car.

“Look, Mr. Upshur.”, He nervously fidgeted with his bag of chips. He took a deep breath, straightening up his back. “I must affirm that you are not just coming with me to comply with me, promise me that you feel the same way that I do!”

“Feel what way?” Miles said quietly, he looked at Waylon with light confusion.

“That we have to do this.” Waylon said sternly.

“Oh yeah, yeah, yeah. Uh-huh. Yuppers. You’re on my side, I’m on yours. We got shanked by the same company so we’re basically blood brothers!” Miles said starting the car. Waylon laughed, munching on some ruffles. Suddenly there was tapping on Waylon’s window. Waylon jumped choking on his chips. He coughed banging his fist on the dashboard. The men started banging on the door. Miles motioned them to come over to his side of the car.

“Run them…over…!” Waylon demanded through intelligible coughing.

“C’mon they might be nice! Also I’ll kill you if you throw up in this car.” Miles got out of the car waving to the men, leaving the car door open. They were well dressed, a black van parked not to far away. Waylon chugged down a bottle of wine until the chip was finally down.

“We’re from Murkoff, we are looking for a Mr. Park, Waylon Park. We traced him to this location.” One of the men said sternly. Waylon spit out his car temperature wine.

“Me?! What do you want with--” He yelled in confusion, realizing he had just given away who he was.

“We don’t want any trouble, Mr. Park. We aren’t here to start anything, yet. We just have some news for you. You may want to hear it.” Another agent spoke up. Miles slipped back into the car, reaching for the key. Waylon stopped his hand.

“Inform me.” Waylon said simply.

“It’s your family. We have them. If you want them alive, you’ll come with us.” They informed. Waylon gasped, eyes widening. Waylon opened the car door walking out and towards the men. Maybe he could get them back. He wasn’t sure what he would do once he found them again but if there was a chance to be with his family again, he’d take it. Miles grabbed onto Waylon.

“Hey! Well, we’ll drive behind your car, you lead the way!” Miles thought all of this was irrational and that this was clearly all fake but he didn’t want to upset Waylon. Especially over a threat as big as this.

“Just remember if you stray behind, we won’t look for you. It’s your choice.” They said before walking to the car. Waylon demanded Miles get out of the car. He pulled him out and hopped in.

“Get in! We’re going NOW!” Waylon yelled, trying to assert his dominance over Miles. Miles ran over to the passenger seat. Waylon yelped as he watched the van pull out. He floored the car swerving towards the van. He landed behind it safely. Miles was freaking the fuck out. He just couldn’t trust Waylon with his car. This was giving him a bad feeling. This whole situation.

“Are you fucking nuts?!” Miles scolded.

“My driving isn’t that bad. You’re overreacting”

“Oh sorry. Now that I think about it my anxiety is completely cured, thank you Waylon Park!—“ He said sarcastically.

“You’re welcome!” Waylon chimed smugly.

“No, dumbass, not the car! I mean Murkoff! Think about it, you are going all the way back to Murkoff to what is obviously—-“

“We aren’t going all the way back! Don’t be silly. There is corporations all over the place. I’m sure there is one in Utah.”

“Isn’t that a little too convenient? That they brought your family to this specific Murkoff building near us?” Miles tried to rationalize with Waylon but it was like Waylon wasn’t listening at all.

“What do you mean?” Waylon knew what Miles was talking about but he didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want the truth.

“I mean, why would Murkoff bring your family all the way here? How do they know where we’re going if we don’t even know where we’re going?” It seemed the longer Miles tried to explain how this was a hoax without saying it, the more Waylon ignored him.

“Fine! But I get control of the radio! And I say we are listening to Britney Spears!” Miles got out his phone and started blasting Britney’s hit from the speakers. It paused it mid intro to speak again. “…no wait! We’re listening to uh…Avril Lavigne!”

“Avril Lavigne?! But she only has like 3 good songs!” Waylon snapped.

“Excuse me? All of her songs are bangers. What about sk8r boy?”

“Sk8r boy is a shitty composition and you know it! America knows it but they don’t listen!”

“I get control of the radio. My car my rules!” Miles yelled.

  
After the 13th Avril Lavigne song they arrived at a foreboding building in the middle of nowhere.

“Oh god…Waylon I don’t want to say you were right but you were right. About Avril Lavigne being a bad writer, I mean. Not about Murkoff. This is a terrible fucking idea and I do not think this is going to go well.” Miles said. Waylon took a deep breath bracing himself for what he was about to see. He couldn’t stop thinking about how much pain his family must be in and how it was all his fault. He stepped out of the car following the men that lead them here. Miles pushed the car door open, bolting for Waylon.

“Waylon, wait! I didn’t want to say it because it might hurt your feelings and…and I just didn’t wanna hurt you but…what if this is a trap. No. No not what if, this is for a fact a trap. They are fucking lying to you and you’re going to die in there. You know they are lying there is no fucking way your family is in there.” Miles hissed, as to not get the attention of the men.

“And what if they aren’t lying to me? I just can’t risk that…” Waylon said softly, walking away from Miles. After Waylon was a few feet away he groaned. His heart was pounding. He didn’t want to lose Waylon. They were going to kill him.

“Stop being a dumbass and”, Miles took off his shoe and chucked it at Waylon, just barely over his head. “LISTEN TO ME!” Waylon flinched but he didn’t look back. The two men grabbed Waylon urging him inside. Miles tapped his foot impatiently. He sat in the car pouting. He was stuck in between going in to save Waylon and getting the satisfaction of saying “I told you so”.  
Let me tell you what I would do. A voice faded into Miles mind. It had a soft persuasive voice, with a slight german accent, it made the voice sound smart.

“Oh, there you are! I knew you were in there somewhere. How’s my Casper the Friendly Ghost, my little troublemaker!” Miles purred in a patronizing voice. He made kissing noises, batting his eyelashes.

_Don’t call me that. Stop that. You’re MINE. Not the other way around. I’m not your pet._

“Sounds like something a cat would say.” Miles said.

  
_I am saying that if you wish to keep your friend, I…WE…should go after him. We’re an unstoppable team_. The Walrider suggested.

  
“You just want to kill people! I’m not a murderer! Not by choice anyway.” Miles accused.

  
_Hö hö! Yeah. But you also get to save the damsel in distress and prove your right._ They suggested. Miles thought for a while. He really wanted to save Waylon. Besides, once Waylon did get his family back, would they just let him leave? There’s no way. Miles marched right up to the door, pushing them so hard they almost slammed back in his face.

It took a while to find Waylon. Miles was wondering around, calling out for him. Waylon would never hear him because was busy conversing with people who dragged him by the arm every which way. They were far apart. Whenever he asked where his family was the guards would just say “we’re almost there”. Waylon and his bodyguards lead him to some locked doors. The two guards opened them up, motioning for Waylon to step inside. The room was dimly lit and Waylon wasn’t very excited to go inside. He looked at the two men with concern. They impatiently threw him inside, tired of waiting around. They quickly locked the doors behind him. Waylon shrieked rushing to the door to pound on it. He begged to be let out but no one answered him.

  
“Hi! You must be Waylon! I’ve heard a lot about you!” A feminine voice chimed.

  
“Lisa? Where’s Lisa!” Waylon cried, not bothering to turn around.

  
“No, I’m not Lisa, I’m Ms. P.E. Calypso. Why don’t you come over here and we can discuss more about your family.” she patted on the desk, beckoning him to come closer.

  
“Where the fuck are they?!” Waylon finally turned around

  
“With Jeremy. I don’t think they made it. Sorry he couldn’t be here. He’s still uh. I dunno. Busy.”

  
“Yeah, he’s dead.”

  
“Not for long…” She hummed.

  
“Well, I hope you go to heaven. With your family and stuff, I mean. This is all business. Hope you understand.” She stated simply as the sound of guns surrounded Waylon. He stood in shock as the lights turned on, illuminating the whole room. He was cornered by people with firearms.

  
“Ready…!” Calypso yelled. Everyone readied their guns. Waylon banged on the door behind him. In desperation he cried out Miles name. Miles didn’t hear it but the Walrider did. The Walrider flung Miles into the direction of the noise.

  
“Set…!”

  
“GO!” Miles shouted as he busted the doors open. Waylon ran out the doors running far away from the scene as he could. The gunners tried to shoot Miles but bullets didn’t seem to do anything. It seemed so easy to kill indiscriminately when the Walrider was taking over his mind. Miles had no control.

  
“Did I kill that Park guy? Miles, I might have killed your little Park man…!” The Walrider said in Miles’ voice. He gave Miles a bit of a German accent.

  
_You better not have!_ Miles scolded the Walrider his mind, unable to actually speak or move without the Walrider’s consent

  
“He looks like tiny long haired ape. Will not be hard to find.” The Walrider reassured. He looked around and fly towards the direction that Waylon was in.

_How do you know where he is? M_ iles asked

  
“I can taste his little monkey tears from here. Also I hear him. Hear his little monkey cries.” The Walrider replied. The Walrider floated around before he found Waylon crying by a broken window.

  
“APE.” The Walrider exclaimed pointing at Waylon. The Walrider faded out of Miles’ consciousness just enough to give Miles control again.

“Waylon! You’re okay! Oh my god! Holy fuck, Park! I’m so sorry I…I wanted it to be real I really did. I wanted things to work out.” He held Waylon tightly. He wasn’t being totally honest. He wanted to prove Waylon wrong but now that he did…he soon realized how unsatisfying it was. Waylon hugged him back. He stopped his crying gradually.

  
“At least you’re alive. Can you…take me away from here?”

  
“Of course, pal! C’mere.” Miles said kindly as he swept Waylon off his feet and into his arms bridal style. Miles jumped out of the window with a “hyup!”. Waylon screamed bloody murder as he plunged towards the ground even with Miles holding him tight. Waylon slipped out of Miles grasp. When they safely landed Waylon was still shaking. He gripped onto Miles for support.

  
“Eugh!! Be careful with me!” Waylon outcried. Miles couldn’t help but laugh at Waylon’s additude. He seemed so calm and collected, it was weird seeing him lose his cool so easily.

 

Once they both finally got into the car, it was like a wave of calmness washed over both of them. Waylon stared down at the floor.

  
“Hey,” Waylon began, turning his head towards Miles. “It was really nice of you to save me. You’re so kind to me and I don’t know why. How can I repay you?”

  
“No! It’s not biggie. How about you? How are you feeling? Are you okay? That whole thing was pretty gnarly.” Miles asked, clearly concerned about his friend.

  
“I feel…nothing. I don’t feel anything at all. I’m not sad or angry or anything. I always thought the natural human reaction of recollecting on being held at gunpoint was supposed to be fear or at least something akin to it. But here I am…” Waylon sighed

  
“You don’t have to feel anything! You shouldn’t force yourself to emote. Y’know, if you feel nothing you feel nothing, and if you feel like room temperature hot dog water, well, be it.”

  
“Well, I do feel something. But I don’t know what it is. It’s like…now that I know I have nothing left, I want something to latch onto. Does that make sense?” He tried to convey his feelings of loneliness. The fact that he probably sounded pathetic was holding him back.

  
“Of course it does! And I’m probably not much but, I’m always here for you.”

  
“I can’t like anyone anymore! Everyone I love, or, attach, or, associate myself with dies! If you continue to associate with me you’ll just die like everyone else!” He blurted out. Miles was quiet for a second.

  
“I can’t die. So…you’ll never lose me.” Miles explained. He was right. With the Walrider around, Miles would never die. He could protect Waylon and keep Miles safe forever. Waylon had a look of remorse on his face. He grabbed onto Miles’ hand. Miles’ heart sored. Both of them didn’t know what they were doing but it was like something was pulling them closer together.

  
“You’re all I have left. You are my last chance.”, Waylon’s voice was soft. Speaking as if he was trying to persuade or warn Miles to hate him. “Should I even try? My heart aches…this could all be just some spurt of loneliness. But, then again,”, He pondered “If I dare love you…I may never go back.”

  
“I don’t expect you to.” Miles reassured. Both of their hearts were pounding out of their chests. Waylon’s face more noticeably red than Miles flushed face. They both leaned closer, inches away from each other.

  
“We can try it! Nothing has to be permanent, right? And if it’s all a lie, we never talk about it again. If you dare bring it up, I’ll deny it and everyone will take my side!”

  
“Yeah yeah yeah, I know.” Miles dismissed. Miles pushed himself onto Waylon, kissing him softly. Waylon’s heart and mind soared. Fireworks went off in his mind. Pure joy filled him to the brim. The world for a moment was shaded with a rose glass. That was until Miles pulled away.

  
“Well?” Miles prompted. Waylon was quiet as he took everything in. There was a moment of silence.

  
“Thank you…”, His voice was loving and soft. He paused for a second to put emphasis, “Miles.” Waylon said. Hearing his own name coming out of Waylon’s mouth made his heart jump. Waylon had never called him by his first name since they met.

  
“What now?” Waylon asked, still holding onto Miles hand.

  
“We head somewhere new.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i thought this was super long but it’s as long as my other chapters. I don’t know how my writing can get past 2 pages. that’s like,,, weird for me  
> also i kinda figures out how to write miles which is neat. im not good at writing miles Why Did I Make A Fanfiction With Him In It

**Author's Note:**

> YOKES.  
> this took about a week+ to write this one chapter. including the days where i wrote the outline. this is super long but i promise it wont happen again. i mean it might but its VERY unlikely. this was just me mansplaining everything. i sure do hope everything makes sense


End file.
